アウェイ感

There was once on a time a woman who was a real witch and had two daughters, one ugly and wicked, and this one she loved because she was her own daughter, and one beautiful and good, and this one she hated, because she was her step-daughter. The step-daughter once had a pretty apron, which the other fancied so much that she became envious, and told her mother that she must and would have that apron. "Be quiet, my child," said the old woman, "and thou shalt have it .

Thy step-sister has long deserved death, to-night when she is asleep I will come and cut her head off. Only be careful that thou art at the far-side of the bed, and push her well to the front." It would have been all over with the poor girl if she had not just then been standing in a corner, and heard everything. All day long she dared not go out of doors, and when bed-time had come, the witch's daughter got into bed first, so as to lie at the far side, but when she was asleep, the other pushed her gently to the front, and took for herself the place at the back, close by the wall. In the night, the old woman came creeping in, she held an axe4 in her right hand, and felt with her left to see if anyone was lying at the outside, and then she grasped the axe with both hands, and cut her own child's head off .

When she had gone away, the girl got up and went to her sweetheart, who was called Roland, and knocked at his door. When he came out, she said to him, "Hear me, dearest Roland, we must fly in all haste; my step-mother wanted to kill me, but has struck her own child. When daylight comes, and she sees what she has done, we shall be lost." "But," said Roland, "I counsel thee first to take away her magic wand, or we cannot escape if she pursues us." The maiden fetched the magic wand, and she took the dead girl's head and dropped three drops of blood on the ground, one in front of the bed, one in the kitchen, and one on the stairs. Then she hurried away with her lover. When the old witch got up next morning, she called her daughter, and wanted to give her the apron, but she did not come. Then the witch cried, "Where art thou?" "Here, on the stairs, I am sweeping," answered the first drop of blood. The old woman went out, but saw no one on the stairs, and cried again, "Where art thou?" "Here in the kitchen, I am warming myself," cried the second drop of blood. She went into the kitchen, but found no one. Then she cried again, "Where art thou?" "Ah, here in the bed, I am sleeping." cried the third drop of blood. She went into the room to the bed. What did she see there? Her own child, whose head she had cut off, bathed in her blood. The witch fell into a passion, sprang to the window, and as she could look forth6 quite far into the world, she perceived her step-daughter hurrying away with her sweetheart Roland. "That shall not serve you," cried she, "even if you have got a long way off, you shall still not escape me." She put on her many league boots, in which went an hour's walk at every step, and it was not long before she overtook them.

The girl, however, when she saw the old woman striding towards her, changed, with her magic wand, her sweetheart Roland into a lake, and herself into a duck swimming in the middle of it. The witch placed herself on the shore, threw bread-crumbs in, and gave herself every possible trouble to entice the duck; but the duck did not let herself be enticed8, and the old woman had to go home at night as she had come.

On this the girl and her sweetheart Roland resumed their natural shapes again, and they walked on the whole night until daybreak. Then the maiden changed herself into a beautiful flower which stood in the midst of a briar hedge, and her sweetheart Roland into a fiddler. It was not long before the witch came striding up towards them, and said to the musician, "Dear musician, may I pluck that beautiful flower for myself?" "Oh, yes," he replied, "I will play to you while you do it."  

A short generation ago, families could set their watch by the time the father got home from work each day. My dad always walked through the front door at precisely 6 PM and supper was served at 6:10. We'd all sit around the table discussing the events of the day and then go out on the street to spend time with the neighbors when the kitchen chores were done dermes vs medilase.

On hot summer nights my parents would sit on the veranda with a cool soft drink and spray the kids with a hose as we darted about the front lawn. Life was simple then - but not anymore!

Who among us has not felt a little betrayed by George Jetson's vision of what the future was 'supposed' to be? We all know the Jetsons was just a cartoon but it did entice us into believing the workday of the future would only be a few hours, sitting in a comfy chair, pushing a couple buttons, while the lovely-wife got even lovelier, spending most of her time at the beauty salon. He lied to us dermes vs medilase!

The sad reality is the future we live in today is the exact opposite of Mr Jetson's. Fathers work harder, longer and with more responsibilities and stress than any generation in all of history. Mothers have little time to get lovelier because they're trying to balance the needs of the children along with a full-time job.

Most families don't sit around the dinner table anymore because they're all on different schedules, stressed to the teeth, just trying to keep up with this generation's pace of life.

Is it any wonder then, it's not uncommon anymore to see near epidemic numbers of people succumbing to stress related illnesses? Current studies in Canada and the USA purport one in four people in North America are 'currently' suffering from some form of Chronic Fatigue or Chronic Depression. They also predict that eight out of ten people in the current generation and the one to follow, will fall victim to chronic illnesses like these, in their lifetime. Tragically too, many of them will never recover dermes!

The financial impact from stress related illnesses is alleged to be in the Billions of Dollars with devastating effects on business and healthcare costs. But there is still a larger issue for chronic fatigue or depression sufferers. The social safety nets aren't there. In fact, chronic depression is still politically and socially misunderstood and society has very little empathy-appetite for it.